Grave Intentions (16 page)
Authors: Lori Sjoberg
“Honestly, I don’t know,” she finally answered. “It’s a lot to take in all at once.”
David nodded. “I thought you’d be happy.”
“I am . . . kind of. I mean it’s nice to know I won’t need the rubber room anytime in the immediate future, but it’s not that simple.”
She’d spent the past twenty years living life like she was always late for an appointment, cramming in as many life experiences as possible before her brain took a one-way trip to La-La Land. It was a relief to know she could relax a little and enjoy the scenery. But still, she felt resentful about the wasted time, the unnecessary fear, and constant worrying.
She shifted in her seat so she could see David better. His hands were firm on the wheel as he took the exit onto Goldenrod Road. On the outside he looked steady and relaxed, but upon closer examination she noticed the grim set of his mouth, the brows lightly furrowed.
“How do you handle it?” she asked, feeling more comfortable tossing the ball back into his court for a little while.
“Handle what?” His tone was flat, his eyes never leaving the road.
“You know what.”
She let the silence stretch out between them, waiting patiently for him to answer the question.
“You get used to it after a while,” he finally said, still showing no hint of emotion.
“How can you?”
“I don’t know.” His brows creased as he lifted a shoulder, aiming for nonchalant but falling short. “We all find a way to cope. It’s not like there’s a lot of choice in the matter.”
Ah, now we’re getting somewhere. “And how do you cope?”
David’s stare stayed locked on the road. He punched the gas, shooting through the yellow at Colonial before the light turned red. Another mile passed before he said, “It’s different for everybody.”
“I’m not asking about everybody. I’m asking about you.”
He slanted a dark look in her direction. “Christ, you’re almost as bad as the kid when it comes to this shit.”
She smiled. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”
David didn’t respond. He swung into their apartment complex a little faster than what she considered safe, and then took the only open spot in the front row by their building. He cut the engine, pulled the emergency brake, and turned in his seat. When he met her gaze, his eyes looked dull and lifeless, and at that moment she knew exactly how he coped.
“Oh, David.” She reached out, but he grabbed her wrist before she could touch him.
“Don’t. Please. I don’t want your pity.” His features shifted, and for the briefest of moments she saw the pain buried beneath the indifference. “It’s easier this way.”
Like hell. “You can’t bury your emotions forever.”
“Wanna bet?” He let out a short, cynical laugh. “I’ve made it more than twenty years this way.”
“Doesn’t mean it’s right.”
“Yeah, well it beats looking at the world through the bottom of a bottle.” He let go of her wrist and slumped back in his seat, rubbing his eyes with the heels of his hands. “Trust me, I’ve tried it all. Sex, drugs, booze, you name it. Right now numb seems to work best.”
Sarah opened her mouth to speak, but David cut her off. “Yeah, I know, I still drink, but not like I used to. I’m talking falling down, waking up in the gutter, wondering if someone took one of your kidneys while you were passed out drunk.”
She knew he didn’t want sympathy, but damned if he wasn’t going to get it. She reached over and covered his hand with her own. “Sounds like a lonely way to live.”
“It has its moments.” He surprised her by twining his fingers with hers, his thumb gently stroking her skin. His eyes softened, the cool gray warming with suppressed emotion. “You going to be okay?”
“I don’t know. I guess. Ask me after I’ve had enough time for all of this to sink in.” She let out a low chuckle. “Boy, is Grandma going to love this.” The words died in her throat as she remembered her earlier conversation with Pearl. “Oh, no.”
“What’s wrong?”
“Something I forgot to do.” She tried to open the door before realizing it was still locked. Flushed, she popped the lock and pulled the handle. “I have to go.”
chapter 12
Visiting hours were almost over by the time Sarah rushed through the front entrance of the Auburn Green Retirement Community. Most residents kept an early bedtime so the main lobby was eerily quiet, the only noise coming from the television in the waiting area, tuned in to the Weather Channel. The smell of disinfectant hung heavy in the air, a lingering reminder of the janitor’s last round of cleaning.
A young woman in nursing scrubs manned the front desk, her eyes glued to the computer monitor while her fingers tapped feverishly on the keyboard. The fluorescent lighting gave her skin a harsh, jaundiced appearance, accentuating the grooves bracketing the corners of her mouth. At the sound of Sarah’s footsteps she looked up and gave a practiced smile.
“Wow, you’re quick.”
“Excuse me?” Sarah froze in her tracks. That familiar feeling of dread returned, grabbing her by the throat and giving it a good squeeze.
“I said you’re really fast,” the nurse said, her focus momentarily shifting to the notepad by the phone. “I just left you a message less than ten minutes ago and here you are.”
“Oh.” Sarah glanced down to her purse, realizing she’d left her cell phone at the apartment.
This couldn’t be good. There was no other reason they’d call so late. Preparing for the worst, she asked, “I’m sorry, I didn’t get your message. What’s going on?”
The nurse gave her a sympathetic look. “Oh. Well, there was some trouble with your grandmother about an hour ago. Dr. Patel can fill you in on the details.”
She rounded the desk and walked over to the double doors on the far side of the room. She waved a key card in front of a scanner and the lock disengaged with an audible click.
“We have a couple of late-night wanderers,” the nurse explained. “If we don’t keep the main door locked at night, Mrs. Singletary tries to make a break for it.” She pushed the door open and motioned for Sarah to go inside. “Dr. Patel is seeing to Mrs. Griffith in room 157. Down the hall and to your left.”
“Thank you.”
Sarah walked down the long empty hallway, her anxiety building with each passing step. As she neared the room, she could hear her grandmother’s fretful pleas, muffled beneath the haze of medication.
“I’m not crazy! Let me go!”
“Now, now, Mrs. Griffith, you just settle down while the doctor gives you a quick look-see. If you quit making such a ruckus, we can loosen these ties and get you some dinner.”
“I don’t give a hoot about dinner; I want to talk to my granddaughter!”
Sarah could hear Dr. Patel now, his voice smooth and soothing but too low for Sarah to pick out the words. A few moments later he emerged from the room, his head tilted down as he jotted notes onto Pearl’s chart. When he finished, he placed the pen in his shirt pocket and looked up.
“Oh, hello, Sarah.” Patel sounded tired, like he’d had a long, rough day. “I’m glad you came on such short notice.”
“Not a problem, I was already on my way.” Sarah rolled her shoulders in a futile attempt to loosen the tension. “What’s happening with my grandmother?”
Patel frowned, looking torn between compassion and frustration. “I wish I could give you better news. Pearl had another incident about an hour ago, worse than her previous episodes. She created a disturbance in the main community room, and when one of the orderlies tried to calm her down, she threw a vase at the wall. We had no choice but to restrain and sedate her before she harmed herself or anyone else.”
“Oh no.” It was official: she was the worst granddaughter on the planet. She’d broken her promise to visit Pearl as soon as she got out of jury duty. If she hadn’t gone off with David, she could have averted this latest incident. Sarah swallowed hard, forcing back the guilt. “How is she doing?”
“She’s much better now. I gave her a mild sedative to settle her nerves.” He glanced down at Pearl’s chart, his face tight with concern. “However, I am worried about her vitals. Each episode brings a significant increase in heart rate and blood pressure, which puts her at an elevated risk for heart attack and stroke. I know you feel strongly against it, but we may have no alternative but to place her on a regimented medication schedule to keep her vitals within acceptable parameters.”
“What kind of medication?” Sarah asked, although she suspected she already knew the answer.
“I’d like to begin with a standard blood pressure medication, paired with a mild anti-depressant to keep her from becoming agitated. After the first week we can adjust the levels, depending on how Pearl responds to the treatment.
“I understand.” But that didn’t mean she had to like it. Dr. Patel was acting in her grandmother’s best interest, and the interest of his other patients. He had no way of knowing Pearl’s visions were actually real. Heck, she didn’t know until a couple hours ago. “Can I see her?”
“Certainly. But please keep the visit short. With the sedative I gave her, she won’t be lucid for much longer.”
“Thank you, doctor.” Sarah stepped into the room, her breath catching at the sight of her grandmother.
“Aw, there’s my baby, come to see her crazy grandma.” Pearl’s words came out slow and slurred. The drugs had left her eyes glassy and unfocused, yet they still tracked Sarah’s movements as she approached the hospital bed. “Look what they did to me this time, baby girl.”
Pearl’s right arm tugged at the padded cuff tethering her to the rail. Her left arm was also restrained and hooked up to an IV, the thin plastic tube running up to a bag of clear liquid hanging from a metal stand a few feet away.
The words cut like barbed wire as Sarah sat down on the chair beside the bed. Maybe, if she’d believed Pearl, she could have avoided all this. She should have known better. And now that she knew, she’d do everything in her power to make things right.
Sarah wrapped her hand around Pearl’s, unsettled by the coolness in her pale skin and the frailty of her bones. In all her years, she’d never seen her grandmother look so weak and helpless. It was enough to make her sick inside. She bit the inside of her cheek, focusing on the pain so she wouldn’t cry.
“You’re not crazy, Grandma.”
“Oh, we both know better than that.” Pearl gave her a weak smile. “You never believed a word I said, even when you were a little girl.”
Sarah nodded, the lump in her throat making it hard to speak. “I know. I was a narrow-minded little kid who grew up to be a narrow-minded woman. But I believe you now. I’m sorry I ever doubted you.”
“Wow, these are some wonderful drugs,” Pearl said, her eyes drooping to half-mast. “I could have sworn you just said you believed me.”
“I do believe you.” Sarah smiled, giving Pearl’s hand a light squeeze.
Pearl’s head lolled to one side as she laughed quietly to herself. The drugs were taking their toll now, saturating her blood with chemical relaxation. Another minute or two, and she’d be out for the night. “What brought this on?”
“We’ll talk about it in the morning, Grandma, when you’re feeling better. Let’s just say I met someone who opened my mind to a different way of looking at things.” She thought of David and her pulse quickened.
“Met someone?” The haze cleared from Pearl’s eyes as curiosity momentarily overpowered the effects of the medication. “Do tell. Is this someone handsome?”
“Grandma.”
“Come on now, Sarah, humor an old woman. Lord knows how much time I have left. I could go any minute.” Her heavy-lidded eyes pinned Sarah with an inquisitive look. “It is a man, right?”
Sarah’s face flushed. “Yes.”
“There’s my girl.” Pearl smiled and then let out a massive yawn. “I want to hear all about him. Tell me everything, and don’t you dare leave out a single detail.”
“I’ll tell you when you’re feeling better.” Yes, she’d share her revelations with Grandma Pearl. And in return—hopefully—her grandmother would accept her apology and fill in the blanks regarding the family gift.
She stayed a few more minutes, until Pearl’s eyes drifted shut and her breathing relaxed into a deep, steady rhythm. Tomorrow, they’d have much to discuss.
Later that evening, David and Adam found themselves slogging along the soft shoulder of Interstate 4. Even this late, the highway was alive with the steady buzz of traffic. The drizzle from an hour before had worsened to a heavy downpour, soaking them both as they trudged on foot toward the base of the bridge.
“Careful,” David told Adam, motioning toward the edge of the St. Johns River. Clouds obscured the moonlight, making it nearly impossible to judge the distance from shore. He took a tentative step around the concrete pylon, his boot sinking so deep in the muck he had a hard time pulling it back out. “Gators love this stretch of the river.” Not to mention water moccasins, snapping turtles, and the occasional vagrant.
“You’ve got to be shitting me.” Adam’s head whipped around, searching for signs of reptiles. A Chicago native, the kid had probably never seen an alligator outside a zoo.
“I shit you not, city boy. There isn’t a body of water in Florida that doesn’t have at least one gator.”
“Shouldn’t we have brought a flashlight with us then, so we can see where the fuck we’re going?”
“Why, so we can be spotted? I don’t think so.” Still, David couldn’t resist pulling a pen light from his back pocket. He clicked it on and skimmed the light over the water.
“See those reflections over there?” David aimed the light at a spot about twenty feet from shore, where two red dots floated just above the surface. “That’s a gator. Big sucker, too. Their eyes are reflective at night.”
In the distance, a series of loud, guttural bellows echoed over the river.
“What the fuck was that?” Adam asked, getting jumpier by the minute.
“Don’t worry, it’s just another gator. He’s either talking smack to some pretty little female or warning the other fellows to stay out of his territory.” David clicked off the penlight and stuffed it back in his pocket. He glanced back at Adam and, much to his amusement, found the kid looking like a deer in the headlights. “Relax, Newbie. They’re more scared of us than we are of them.”
“Famous last words.”
David led the way around the base of the bridge, mindful of the danger lurking beneath the deceptively calm waters. Theoretically, a reaper could recover from an alligator attack, but he wasn’t inclined to test the theory any time in the immediate future.
Meanwhile, the call of death grew stronger, signaling its imminent arrival. The insistent buzz pulsated through his body, drawing him to the place where some unsuspecting schmuck was about to take a dirt nap.
“How long?” he asked Adam, testing the kid’s ability to gauge time and place.
“Not long,” Adam replied almost immediately, his eyes still busy scanning the darkness for alligators. “No more than a minute, tops.”
“Very good,” David said, keeping his tone level so the kid wouldn’t get a swelled head. He had to admit, Adam was becoming increasingly in tune with mortal misfortune. On the outside, the kid seemed to be handling it well, but the signs of stress were becoming more evident. Haunted eyes. Mood swings. Nights filled with fitful sleep and nightmares. Pretty soon, they’d have to sit down and discuss the finer points of stress management.
Like he had room to talk. He’d spent years searching for a way to cope before mastering the fine art of emotional lockdown. Sure, the process had resulted in a general disconnect with his humanity, but it was the only thing keeping his inner demons in check.
His thoughts tracked to Sarah, wondering how she was dealing with the day’s events. Maybe telling her the truth wasn’t such a bright idea. He could only imagine what was going through her mind at this very moment. It would be difficult for her, assimilating the day’s revelations into her tightly structured universe.
But still, he had a feeling she’d somehow find a way. She was a scientist after all, an explorer of uncharted territory. It was in her nature to seek and to find, to master the unknown and create order. It was a trait he admired more with each passing day.
Overhead, cars shot across the bridge at speeds well above the posted limit. The continuous drone of engines was suddenly interrupted by the blaring of a horn, followed by the unmistakable whoosh of a vehicle hydroplaning. Then came the sound of hard impact as a pickup truck plowed through the bridge’s concrete barrier, becoming airborne for a few seconds before plummeting back to earth. It hit the ground nose first, the front end crumpling like an accordion. Metal crunched and glass shattered as the truck rolled over, coming to rest a few feet shy of the shoreline.
“Thank God it didn’t go into the water,” David said, relieved his night wouldn’t include a swim with the gators.
Adam glared at him with his mouth open, aghast. “We got two bodies in the truck and that’s all you can think about?”
David jerked his thumb toward the water. “You feel like swimming tonight? Cause I sure as hell don’t.” He moved closer to Adam. “Do you know what happens when an alligator attacks?”
“I get the general idea.”
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